Unconventional Methods
by Seacilin
Summary: Book four. What would've happened if Voldemorts character had been just that little more sinister when he met our hero? No longer a Oneshot -Harry!Incubus
1. Chapter 1

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The following is just a dribble of a story. It's just there as a bit of inspiration to other fic writers and maybe a little light reading for anyone else into creature!fics.

Still feedback on the writing style and character development are always welcomed as well as all other remarks, if you like it tell me why ;)

Thank you for taking the time to read this short author note. If people like and would like me to **continue posting Incubus!Harry** stories please review and tell me so.

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Note: Takes place in book four, I won't say when or where because my writing should show that.

Type: Creature fic, creature-incubus(surprise there).

Categories: Non-con, Abuse, violence, main HP/LV but also HP/SS HP/LV HP/LM

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Harry struggled in the statues grasp, not wanting to see the form of the  
thing that was currently stepping out of the bubbling cauldron. A moment  
later, all sounds died down and Harry turned his eyes back on the  
resurrection. A cold smirk was flashed in his direction before Voldemort  
grasped Wormtail's arm and pressed his wand to the tattooed flesh. Instantly  
the mark stained to an inky black and from all around pops of apparition  
sounded.

As the Death Eaters arrived, they instantly fell to their knees in submission  
to the now robed monster that watched them appear individually. After five  
minutes it became clear that no more were going to arrive and the red blazing  
eyes turned back on Harry briefly.

Voldemort addressed his death eaters silently then and Harry could only watch  
as he counted the faces one by one, divesting them of the masks hiding their  
faces away. Harry nearly choked as Voldemort stopped at one of them. The  
potion's master bowed respectfully before turning a sneer on Harry from  
across the circle.

Harry arms pined to his sides by the statue of the grim reaper angel holding  
him, could only tremor as a black robed- but very much alive- Voldemort  
approached, his eyes glowing in the light given by the setting sun.

The death eaters watched eagerly as the Dark Lord advanced and stopped just  
in front of Harry to look down on him. He raised a thin, pale spider-like hand  
and a sharp nail touched the fleshy spot behind Harry's earlobe. It dragged  
slowly around his jawbone to his chin, leaving a lingering sting in its wake.  
Harry was panting by the time Voldemort raised his wand, and stumbled as the  
statue released him.

He crashed to his hands and knees before the man, but as one of the near-by  
Death Eaters lobbed him his wand, he quickly scrambled to his feet. Before he  
could even stand straight, a loud bang sounded and a light erupted from the  
end of Voldemort's wand.

Harry was instantly thrown into a world of darkness and he tensed, standing  
up strait as he strained his senses in an attempt to survive this encounter.  
His eyes were useless and the only sounds were the rustling of cloaks around  
him.

A snap of a broken twig to his left had him spinning around, wand raised,  
only to turn back at the sound of a mocking chuckle. Clearly, he was the only  
one blinded by the curse.

Harry's heart thumped in his chest and in his ears. His Fight or Flight had  
kicked in, but with no way to see, he was forced to fight, and his nerves  
frayed with the knowledge that at any minute the Dark Lord might swoop out of  
nowhere and attack him. He had expected to be killed straight off and not  
given a chance to fight. Not that he could in his current state,

Harry fleetingly wondered why he hadn't been killed straight off, but  
pushed the thought aside for more pressing matters; if he lived past tonight,  
he could only hope that the spell would be only temporary.

The flutter of a cloak to his left had Harry back up into one the death  
eaters and in his panic he tripped over his own footing. A round of laughter  
rang out, echoing through the graveyard, and Harry scrambled up again. All was  
quiet for a moment, then a hand ghosted over his shoulder.

Harry instantly reared around and fired off a stunner. A curse, and the  
scrambling of death eaters feet were all that could be heard. Harry could feel  
the tension in the air around him. The temperature had dropped and the hairs  
on the back of his neck rose as he imagined Voldemort circling him like a  
lion, ready to strike. A breath of hot air hummed against his left ear and  
Harry ducked, rolled and shot off another stunner. This time his target hit  
home and there was the sound of a dull thump as a less fortunate Death Eater  
was knocked unconscious by Harry's stray curse.

Suddenly, a leg swept the ground out from under his feet and Harry fell  
backwards, his head bouncing off the cold, hard soil. He inhaled sharply from  
the pain and cradled his head as another round of laughter exploded around  
them, but shook it off when he realized he had lost his wand.

The teen started to rise but a naked foot pressed into his chest preventing  
his efforts. He panted as the pressure increased and grasped the foot in an  
attempt to pry it from his chest. The blunt tip of a wand pressed against his  
forehead and he froze in fright before his wrists were taken in a magical grip  
and pulled over his head. The heavy foot lifted off his chest and Harry  
shivered in the cold evening air, still pressed to the sodden earth that was  
slowly soaking his clothes.

Harry felt the presence of someone kneeling beside him seconds before a cold  
finger traced down his left cheek. Harry frowned and turned his head biting  
down on the offending digit.

There was a loud hiss of pain and a slap rang out around the graveyard as  
Harry was backhanded sharply. Not one, but twice and then a third time across  
the cheek, and for the first time that night, he felt the sting of tears in  
his sightless eyes. Between all the stress over the last few weeks with the  
tournament, Cedric's death and now Voldemort resurrection, it seemed silly  
that Harry was about to crack over something as mundane as the incessant  
thrumming pain in his cheek.

"Perhaps it's time we had ourselves some fun, my followers." Unable to  
help himself, Harry trembled. The Dark Lord had spoken and it was every bit as  
terrifying as he'd imagined it would be. The sibilant speech was more  
chilling to Harry than the damp soaking into his jeans and lingering in the  
air around them making it heavy. "Avery, Knott, Lucius, Severus, stay. The  
rest of you may leave until I call you again. No one is to make any move to  
suggest our organization is active again. If I hear anything before our next  
meeting, I will personally see to the perpetrator myself."

The tones the Dark Lord spoke in left no doubt in Harry's mind that nobody  
would be disobeying him soon. A series of pops sounded again and Voldemort's  
robes rustled as he stood. "You two may play as you see fit, but he is not  
yours, remember that."

The coldness in Voldemort's voice sent a shiver down Harry's bones and he  
jumped as two pairs of hands grasped his legs and held down his chest. Panic  
ripped through him as the hands roamed sloppily up his legs, thighs, across  
his chest and arms. Harry flailed, trying to dislodge his attackers but the  
spell at his wrists held him steady.

"My Lord." Harry knew that voice, Lucius Malfoy.

"Speak Luciussss" the controlled voice answered.

"My Lord, perhaps Avery and Knott are undeserving-" he stopped as a low  
snort sounded.

"Manors, Severus. Are you sure it's not jealously Lucius?"

Harry gasped audibly in terror as the hands explored every contour of his  
clothed body, leaving him feeling weak, shivery, and more vulnerable than  
he'd ever felt before. Not being able to move was bad enough, but when a gag  
thread its way past his lips and through his teeth, Harry let hot tears well  
up and spill over his cheeks, trying not to think why the gag was in place.

"Enough." Harry almost wept with relief as the hands hesitantly left his  
body, but he whimpered in the next moment as his clothing disappeared leaving  
the cold air to assault his body, instantly bringing forth hundreds of  
Goosebumps on his flesh. "Lucius, Severus, step forward. I will give you a  
special treat tonight. Potter is one of your students is he not, Severus?"

"Unfortunately, my Lord," came the dark drawl. It was laced with  
bitterness, and Harry felt his anger boil thinking of how Dumbledore could  
ever have trusted the former death eater.

Suddenly, Harry's gag disappeared and a harsh grip landed on his chin  
forcing his mouth to stay open as the harsh tip of a wand was hitting the back  
of his throat. Harry felt a tingle spread down his throat before the wand was  
replaced by something suspiciously warm, wrinkly and hard. The teen had no  
doubt as to what it was.

He uttered a muffled protest and tried to bite the bastard raping his mouth  
but the spell prevented any movement of his jaw, and the vibrations of his  
protest only earned him more groans and the jab of more flesh, activating his  
gag reflex. It continued for what felt like hours before firm-muscled thighs  
pinched his face from both sides and with a final thrust, his abuser spent  
himself in Harry's mouth, causing Harry to almost choke on the bitter seed.

The man above him pulled out, resting instead on his chest, and a finger  
dabbed up the seed dribbling from his mouth and wiped it back on Harry's  
coated tongue before the spell wore off.

"Would you like that too, Severus?" spoke Voldemort's cold voice, laced  
was sarcasm.

"No, my Lord."

"No?" Voldemort gave a humorless laugh. "Come now, Servant, Lucius will  
attest to his…skills."

Through all of this, Harry listened to the person panting over him, praying  
silently for the abuse to stop. The thumping pain in his raw throat wasn't  
helping him try to swallow the thick substance varnishing his mouth and he  
wasn't even aware when the sated wizard standing over him left his side,  
save for the weight leaving his chest.

He struggled for breath, terrified and traumatized, and let a cracked sob  
escape his lips. Bad idea, as it only drew attention to him. Those sharp nails  
were back, raking down his chest and grazing lightly over his exposed thighs.  
He gasped.

"Broken already, Harry? Hardly seems worth my effort, but you'll truly  
know broken when I am through with you, boy," hissed the serpentine voice.

"N-no, please" Harry shamefully begged. A moan sounded and a cold finger  
glided down his limp **, causing Harry to gasp and sob.

"You sound prettier in Parseltounge than you do in English, Harry." The  
finger was removed, however, and suddenly the world burst into colour as his  
sight was returned to him.

Voldemort stood, smirking down at him, snake like features twisted in a feral  
grin. A slitted tongue crept out and glided along the thin blue lips for added  
effect. The warm salty tear tracks on his face stopped as Harry glimpsed his  
potion professor's hardened gaze. The potions master wasn't staring in  
pity but in understanding and barely concealed disgust. To Snape's left,  
Lucius Malfoy stood and grinned snottily at him, and next to him stood a wiry  
Avery and stout Knott, who stared on with heated gazes.  
"Severus," Voldemort's face grew cold, "I want to see you act out on  
the boy."  
Snape's eyes darkened as they rested on Harry and he bowed to Voldemort  
respectfully before he raised his wand. Harry gasped as his magically bound  
arms were tugged upwards, closely followed by the rest him, by invisible  
chains. It stretched his body taught, toes barely tipping the ground.

Harry's eyes were wild, watching the sneering Death Eaters as Snape stepped  
behind him. A wisp of air, a whistling of something traveling at high speed  
were the only warnings before the tasseled end of a leather whip cracked  
across his back, ripping a scream of agony from Harry's frayed throat.

Harry shuddered limply in his binds, his sobs resumed quietly. A cold chuckle  
sounded as Voldemort came to stop before him and reached around to mop up a  
dribble of blood from his shredded skin, before wiping the stained finger over  
Harry's bottom lip. He then took a firm hold of Harry's jaw, and brought  
his face inches from Harry's before he took said lip into his mouth, sucking  
on it. Harry whimpered still held in position.

A harsh bite drew a painful gasp, which was taken advantage of. Voldemort's  
forked tongue quickly swept into his mouth plundering its depths,  
unrelentingly marking it's territory. Harry tried to force the tongue out of  
his mouth but it was useless and he gave in and struggled uselessly in his  
binds. After what seemed like forever, Voldemort withdrew his tongue and cold  
thin lips, giving a breathless chuckle before he ran the forked tip over the  
shell of Harry's ear, making him shiver.

Snape watched the scene and knew he had to do something. The thought of what  
the Dark Lord would do to the boy, one-fifth his age, was horrifying. He was  
saved from doing as such when Lucius spoke up.

"My Lord," Voldemort turned his cold eyes on the blonde. "Time is short  
my Lord, the Order…" Lucius spoke by way of an explanation.

Voldemort sighed harshly against Harry's neck and nuzzled it. His sharp  
nails trailed down Harry's arms and sides cutting through just one or two  
layers of skin, enough to cause raised, pink streaks to appear on his skin.

"Unfortunately he's right, Harry," Voldemort stated before he stood up  
and trailed a devious finger down Harry's chest. He pointed the tip of his  
wand over Harry's heart and red eyes blazing with heat narrowed before he  
hissed out, "Morsemorde!" Harry immediately went limp in his binds as  
unconsciousness tugged at him.

______

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke was that he was in a white room.  
Dim evening light leaked in through the window. The next thing he noticed was  
that he was dressed in pyjamas and there were people around him talking in low  
voices. Harry allowed a groan to pass his lips and instantly had three shapes  
around him. The room was out of focus, his glasses missing. Somebody cast a  
spell and Harry's vision cleared momentarily.

"Harry," the old headmaster smiled down at him, but the smile did not  
reach his blue eyes, which, he noticed, were not twinkling.

"Professor Dumbledore," Harry acknowledged. Dumbledore nodded. Harry  
turned his gaze to the other two individuals around him but they were too far  
to see them.

"Who else is here?" Harry croaked, his throat felt red raw.

"Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape, Harry."

Harry stiffened, before he slapped himself mentally. He remembered the look  
in Snape eyes in reaction to his torture and relaxed. "Professor Snape?"

"What is it Potter?" The snappish tone made Harry smile faintly. The  
blob, Snape, came forward.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did in that graveyard, Sir."

Snape frowned. "What are you talking about, you idiot boy? I almost ripped  
your spine open."

The shape called Snape moved into his field of vision and Harry shivered  
involuntarily at the memory, but then Harry thought back on those hands, and  
the forced pleasure extracted from him.

"And for what you didn't do," he whispered. He heard a snort, but also  
saw the dark blob nod his head.

"What happened? How did I get out of there?" he asked, turning to the  
matter at hand.

Dumbeldore frowned over at Snape. "He let you go, Harry. My guess is that  
by placing his mark on your chest, he's sending a message to us here at  
Hogwarts."

Harry frowned before he pulled the covers away from his chest. There, in  
focus, was the Dark Mark, but it was a sickly green colour instead of black,  
like a faded tattoo.

"I don't understand. Why would he send back proof that he's  
returned?" Madame Pomfrey's voice cut in, speaking up for the first time.

"My guess is that he believes nobody in our world will take our words for  
the truth when we inform them that he has returned. Harry's marking was for  
our eyes alone. A very specific message, indeed." His eyes turned back down  
to Harry's face, not missing the disgust clear on the boys twisted features.  
"Professor Snape told us what happened, Harry." Harry shivered and hugged  
his arms around his chest.

All of a sudden, Harry heard a loud gasp, which echoed his own. Harry clamped  
a hand over his chest and looked up at the other blob in distress. Snape was  
holding his left arm as if to quell the pain there.

"He's calling, Headmaster," Snape spat through gritted teeth.

"Return to him, Severus. He'll be expecting you." The chatter stopped  
as Harry groaned as his forehead flared in pain to match his chest.

"I never knew how much it…h-hurt," he gasped.

"Yes," came Snape's gritted reply but in the next moment, Harry felt a  
distinct flutter in his stomach. He started and stared up at his company in  
shock before a pull at his navel had him spinning, spinning away from  
Hogwarts, and the last thing he saw was Dumbeldore's eyes widen comically as  
he reached for him.

Harry landed in a hall of voices. Gasps and silence greeted his sudden  
appearance before yells broke out. The sound of a door opened to his left and  
footfall approached before it stopped suddenly just a few meters away. The  
tense silence fell again like a blanket around the hall.

"Severus, step forward." The cold voice chilled Harry to the bone and he  
gazed up from the ground in time to see a dark shape step out of the many  
other black shapes around him. "Did you see fit to bring the boy back?"

"No my lord, I did not."

Footsteps approached him again and two cold hands wrapped around his arms and  
hauled him up before pressing him into the folds of a dark robed chest and  
holding there. He panted in fear. No, no! He was back again.  
"A nice side effect of your scar and Dark Mark, Harry," an amused tone  
hissed. Once the shock had ridden off, Harry began to struggle violently  
against the withholding arms.  
"This meeting is cancelled. Severus, join me inside my office."

Harry was suddenly pushed and ushered towards a door at the end of the hall,  
a wand jabbed into his back all the while. He still couldn't see much apart  
from the blurs and odd blob or two. Once shepherded inside the office, Harry  
was pulled back against Voldemort's chest before Snape entered and he had  
Snape administer a vial of potion from his top desk drawer. The Dark Lord  
raised his wand and Harry once again felt the bite of nakedness. He was pulled  
down into a lap and his chin directed over a shoulder. Not that Harry minded,  
the potion was obviously some kind of sedative and Harry had been reduced to  
putty in the cold hands. Said hands trailed through his dark tresses and the  
other held firmly over his bare thigh keeping him in position on the Dark  
Lord's lap.

"Severus," the voice sounded husky, "I want to know everything you know  
about my Horcruxes."

Snape stared into the red eyes, knowing it was useless to deny his  
suspicions. "I knew you were using them, my Lord, but that is all I know.  
Dumbledore however, has his theories."

Snape watched the possessive hands train down from the nape of the boys neck,  
down to that indented curve of the boys lower spine, not that he would mind,  
all young Harry would be feeling right now was something akin to what muggles  
refer to as 'sated'. The potion was often used by wizard ** keepers in  
East Asia to calm their kidnappies whilst they 'broke them in'. It was one  
part sedative, two parts aphrodisiac, and three parts numbing agent to one  
part thrall inducer. The casual way in which the Dark Lord held and handled  
the boy-who-lived was disturbing. Poor Potter wouldn't know what hit him.

So Severus found himself wondering just what exactly young Potter was to the  
Dark Lord now; boy-toy? Pet? Harem? All too late Severus realized that while  
he'd been observing Potter, Voldemort had been observing him. A malicious  
grin spread on the nearly lipless mouth.

"My, my, Severus, you have a lot of thoughts running around that active  
brain of yours." The Dark Lord's hand swooped down and glided over the  
boys buttocks. This produced a shiver from the boy's body which caused the  
Dark Lord's eyes to dilate as a result, and his hand tightened on the boys  
back.

"What does Dumbledore suspect, oh servant of mine?" The coldness in the  
Dark Lord's ruby red eyes demanded nothing but the truth.

"He thinks you have seven Horcruxes and he knows what they are, all but  
one."

Voldemort nodded as if he understood this.

"I shall let you in on a little secret, Servant, mostly because I know you  
aren't stupid enough to betray my trust. That old fool may believe you've  
gone turncoat but I know better. I expect you to do right by my young charge  
here, after all." Snape didn't like that particular endearment one bit.  
"Dumbledore is right." The confession brought a sickening twist to  
Snape's stomach.

Voldemort nodded, his eyes narrowed. "I have seven Horcruxes in total. One  
resides in my body, one destroyed, thanks to Lucius, the rest are hidden."  
Voldemort leaned the boy back in his arms then so he lay out across his lap,  
arm supporting Harry's head. The boy's eyes were completely lidded and  
black from the potion-induced state. Voldemort raised a spidery finger and  
pressed it to the angry looking lightning shaped scar on Harry's forehead.  
"The seventh of which, is right here."

Snape eyes widened in understanding. The boy was a Horcrux! 'Neither can  
live while the other survives.' Of course he'd never told Voldemort that  
Dumbledore had revealed to him the full length of the prophecy. Snape, knowing  
he was being watched smirked and bowed. "What is it you wish of me, my  
Lord?"

The Dark Lord was silent for a moment, running his finger through Harry's  
hair and sweeping it away from his Horcrux. "I want you to stock up on that  
wonderful little potion you've just fed Harry here. I will be making him my  
pet, my harem and something else entirely," he added cryptically.

Snape stared at him in confusion before the Dark Lord smirked evilly. "I  
want you to brew me some Volatilis Gravida Puer Venenum. I will be turning the  
boy into an Incubus."

Snape felt his stomach turn and looked on at the boy in concealed pity. The  
boy's cheeks were slightly flushed pink, lips parted, eyes unseeing and  
breathing softly where he was cradled in the arms of the darkest wizard born  
in over a century.

"It will take many potions, my Lord. There will be many stages. The boy has  
no dormant genes, he is not submissive by nature, so naturally he will fight  
the change."

Voldemort nodded and ran two fingers over the boy's bottom lip, pinching  
it.

"Yes, he will fight like the good little Gryffindor he is, but I will be  
training him personally to suit my pleasures. The boy will be told he is sick,  
and I will refrain from claiming him until he reaches his final stage. I will  
train him myself, to accept my touch."

Snape had to think quickly. He had to buy himself and boy time to speak to  
the headmaster. "If you wish the boy to accept the changes faster, then  
perhaps it would be better to abstain from touching him at all in any way that  
relieves sexual tension. After all, less is more with an Incubus, and he will  
want you, willing or not, when he is starved for touch, my Lord."

Voldemort chuckled before he slipped the finger past the boy's lips and into  
his mouth. The boy's breathing never even hitched, he was in a perfect state  
of willingness. Of course things would be different when he awoke.

Voldemort gazed back up at Snape and grinned. "Tell me Severus, you have  
always let on you hated the boy. Why do you see fit to protect him from me  
now?"

Snape flinched outwardly in an award winning display of false honesty. "The  
boy is young, my Lord, and his preferences may not lean where ours may. It  
would ruin him to break him before he is ready for you."

Voldemort hissed in pleasure and grinned again. "Such seductive reasoning,  
Servant, but you have a point. Very well. I'll keep the boy pure and toy  
with him less. Is that acceptable?"

Snape bowed and Voldemort lent and pressed an open mouthed kiss to the boys  
forehead. Just as Snape was dismissed and opened the door to leave he heard  
the quiet whisper that followed him, "Just hurry with that potion Severus,  
before I change my mind." Snape could only hope that the Dark Lord would  
keep his promise and that Harry wasn't stupid enough to give him a reason to  
break it.

After the potion's master had left, Voldemort retired Harry and himself to  
his chambers. He had the boy locked up in shackles, atop a small carpet of  
cushions at the foot of his large king-sized, four poster bed, so when Harry  
awoke from his potion induced stupor this is where he found himself.

He found it hard to remember much. All he'd known was numbness and  
pleasure, mixed with a hazy ignorance and only slight want and need. He'd  
felt hands on him, and had known who's they were but wouldn't or  
couldn't be motivated to stop them, in fact when those cold fingers had  
splayed over his lower back and buttocks he had shivered in pleasure.

He found himself trying to remember the voices. He could recall the tones  
used and the volume but not the words. Then those fingers had pressed to his  
forehead and there was no pain only wholeness, completeness.

Harry shuddered in horror as he relived those emotions. Looking down at  
himself and saw he was now only dressed in a flimsy black silk bed robe, which  
felt wonderful against his skin for all the wrong reasons. It was too big for  
him by far, clearly Voldemort's own as it hung off, exposing one bare  
shoulder.

The teen gazed around, knowing this was Voldemort's room. If the luxury  
didn't give it away then the gaunt crest that hung on the wall over the king  
sized headboard did. The bed could easily fit maybe five people of decent  
proportion side by side.

Harry sighed heavily and looked bleakly at his restraints. Two broad, silver  
cuffs, with velvet lining wrapped around his wrists that fed a chain through  
the bottom headboard. They allowed Harry the freedom of his cushioned wealth  
and self retracted to suit his distance from the footboard. Harry figured he  
was in for quite a wait.

Strangely enough, when he reflected back on his emotions, he found he  
wasn't as frightened as he probably should be, but he figured that was  
probably more drugs in his system, designed to keep him calm.

Hours later, Harry awoke to the sound of running water from the door across  
from where he lay. Voldemort must have returned but went straight to his  
bathroom. The teen settled down for another long wait.

When the door eventually opened again, Voldemort ignored him completely as he  
opened a large walk-in wardrobe to their right and disappeared inside it. He  
returned shortly, clothed in navy silk bottoms and held a key in his hand. He  
approached his desk drawer and opened it. Harry could hear the clinking of  
potion vials and clumsily caught the one that was tossed to him.

"Drink that." Voldemort hissed the order and crossed his arms over his  
chest as he waited for Harry to comply.

"What is it?" Harry asked and Voldemort smirked.

"Something to enhance your mood." The smirk disappeared and was replaced  
with a serious look. Red eyes clashed with green as Voldemort strode forward  
and took Harry's chin in a firm grip. "Something to make you care  
less."

Harry tensed and swallowed the lump in his throat. "And what am I-" Harry  
never got to finish his sentence as Voldemort had sent a wandless  
'stupefy' his way and Harry slumped into his cushions. Voldemort took the  
vial, uncorked it, and poured it down Harry's throat, massaging it to induce  
the swallow reflex. The spell lifted as Voldemort swept him up into his arms.

Harry's eyes became lidded instantly and his head lolled against Voldemorts  
chest. Voldemort released the cuffs attaching Harry to the bed and turned  
quickly to leave.

Harry was carried down a hallway and out into the reception hall with the  
throne. Gasps sounded as Voldemort sat down and splayed Harry across his knees  
and guided his head over Voldemort's shoulder. His robe was hanging loosely  
open and thin cold finger caressed his tresses and thighs once again before he  
pressed them lovingly over the faint Dark Mark branded on the boy's chest.  
Voldemort grinned as Harry shivered before he turned his red eyes on the  
surrounding Death Eaters.

"Let's get started shall we? Obviously as you can all see Harry Potter is  
no longer on my list of targets, but that doesn't mean that we will be  
backing down. Dumbledore and his Order must be brought down."

For the next two hours they discussed plans for the destruction of the Order  
of Phoenix, the fall of Hogwarts and finally Voldemort dismissed the outer  
circle leaving only his most trusted to join him back in his office. Once  
there, Voldermort laid Harry out on the couch, resting the boys head on his  
lap, robe still open so that the teen's body was on display for everyone.  
Voldemort chuckled inwardly at the hungry looks his male-inclined followers  
gave the boy, which was everyone one in the room.

He ran a hand down the boy's chest and watched Lucius lick his lips  
subconsciously. It was amusing the see the reactions he invoked when he  
revealed his plans for boy. He was to become the Dark Lord's Pet and  
eventual consort, and their's too if he deemed them useful enough. He  
planned to eventually have the boy bare him an heir and keep him then as a  
pet, but instructed the rest of them to not- under any circumstances- touch  
the boy any way other than to force compliance.

They all agreed and so Harry was fed his first of what was to be a three-week  
potion routine. The first was a hormone inducer. Severus had warned the Dark  
Lord that Harry would be unruly and earn himself more crucio's than suppers  
but after his first tantrum in which Harry shouted and fussed over wanting to  
be '…the bloody hell released' Voldemort had simply kept Harry sedated,  
and had the elves feed him through potions.

After a week he was fed his second potion, hormone replacement. Harry was  
even more volatile now but Voldemort just shifted Harry off unto his inner  
circle Death Eaters. After three curcio's the boy had learned to hold his  
tongue but his glares spoke of vengeance itching to explode out.

The next stage was physical changes and even though Harry would still be  
hormonal throughout this stage, the Dark Lord still kept him locked up in his  
chambers. He fed Harry the '**-Keepers' potion every night and curled him  
up against his chest whilst his finger always traced the nubs sprouting out of  
the boy shoulder blades. These would continue to grow until Harry came into  
his changing puberty. Once he was claimed, he would then come into the peak of  
his sexual maturity and it would be this stage his thrall would develop.

Harry wasn't told what was happening to him, just that he was sick. An  
infection they'd said but when the small aches in his back turned to  
splinters of agony, he really went downhill. A fever struck him and Harrry  
found himself alone, sweating and panting for breath on his cushions. And that  
is the way the Dark Lord found him upon returning that afternoon. Snape was  
called and explained to the Dark Lord that Harry was fast approaching his  
changing puberty. He would experience these symptoms over the course of a few  
hours and by the end he would be ready for claiming. By this stage his wings  
would be fully grown also.

Voldemort dismissed the potion's master, missing the distressed look the  
man sent the boy, before he cancelled all his meetings that night and sat  
watching the boy. He had turned the boy on his stomach so he could watch his  
wings grow.

The boy moaned in pain and long appendages grew and grew. First they  
materialized as thin elbows that spread out an impressive twelve feet in total  
length. Next, out of the naked appendage sprouted pearly white feathers. Which  
out of those grew more and more which overlapped the pervious once,  
unravelling like muggle window blinds. Soft Downey fluff gave way to secondary  
feathers and finally primary flight feathers until the wings were fully  
formed.

The Dark Lord couldn't resist, he reach over and ran a hand down the soft  
wings. A shiver and a moan escaped the boy and was gobbled up by the pillow in  
his face as the Dark Lord continued to stroke them, realizing they were a  
source of sensitivity for the young creature. Once he had claimed the boy,  
there would be no turning back for Harry. He would be an Incubus in everything  
but birth after that threshold was crossed.

Voldemort reached and brought forward his wand. Hovering it over the boys  
wing tips he sent a small but powerful slicing charm at the primary flight  
feathers and snipped the tips of them, this would render the boy flightless,  
should he somehow find himself outside. He then stood up and retreated to his  
drawing desk.

A while later, a groan was issued as Harry began to recover. Voldemort sat in  
his armchair and watched over the rim of his neat reading glasses. Harry was  
groggy and it seemed to take the boy a lifetime to wake up. At first he rolled  
over and hissed in pain as he crushed one of his wings under him, quickly  
flipping back over.

It took the boy a moment after he came-to to realize he'd changed somewhat.  
Voldemort stood up, starling Harry as he realized he was not the only one in  
the room and he was in fact laying on Voldemort's bed. The Dark Lord  
searched through his drawers for a yellow vial and strode over the Harry and  
held it out.

Harry accepted the vial cautiously. Voldemort could see the question in the  
boy's eyes but also knew he was too afraid to ask it after last time. He  
uncorked and swallowed it in one and sighed relief at the familiar taste of  
the calming drought. Voldemort then uncorked a second vial and surprised Harry  
as he swallowed it himself, then took a second. Harry watched the man walk  
into the bathroom and change into his black silk dressing robe, the very same  
one Harry had once worn. Harry had so many questions and even if he would be  
punished he would ask them.

"Please," he began, as the Dark wizard prepared them both cups of tea  
from the tea tray left by the elves. Voldemort raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"What were those potions, what is happening to me, I mean-" he picked up  
one of his yet useless wings splayed out to his side and let it drop before  
looking back up at the Dark Lord. Voldemort held out the tea and Harry took it  
carefully.

Voldemort stayed standing. He took a sip of his tea and waited for Harry to  
try his before he spoke. "You have been told thus far that the reasons for  
your changes and potions were because of a sickness you picked up in the  
graveyard. This was a lie, as they are in fact a three-stage course of potions  
to change you into an Incubus. Harry you are now in your final stage, Changing  
puberty, thus the wings".

Harry's eyes widened. "You turned me into a…a…What? Why?!" The boy  
all but squeaked.

Voldemort sat down beside him and placed his and the boy's tea on the  
cabinets beside his bed. "Because I wished you to be so and make no mistake,  
my angel-" Harry flinched at the endearment,"-I desired you to be so and  
so you are. Eventually, I will have you carry me an heir but for now you will  
just be my angel."

Harry couldn't breath. He doubted that whatever hair brained scheme  
Dumbeldore had concocted to save him wouldn't have included this. Voldemort  
wanted him as a- well, this!

"What were those potions you took?" he asked cagily.

Voldemort smirked. "The first was an aphrodisiac; I'm not as young as I  
use to be and the second was a contraceptive potion, as I'm not ready for my  
heir just yet." Harry stared for a moment before he was up and running for  
the bedroom door.

He was slow and awkward with the limp lifeless wings and Voldemort caught him  
easily. Harry cried out as the arm ensnared his waist from behind preventing  
his escape. "No! Take your sick, perverted hand off me, you pedo!"

Voldemort growled blowing hot breath onto Harry's ear and dragged the boy  
towards his cushions. In the scuffle he stepped on one of the muscles new  
wings drawing a cry of pain from the young Incubus. He pulled the boy down and  
spelled the cuffs to bind the boy wrists. Harry gasped but Voldemort didn't  
advance any further, he stood up and stared down at Harry curiously as the boy  
gathered his tender wings closer to his body.

Voldemort sneered as he thought of Severus scheming with the old fool. Let  
him think he trusted the spy, let them think he was fooled, and let them think  
that the Dark Lord would keep his promise to wait for the boy's thrall to  
develop. By then the rescue mission would be pointless, nothing could change  
the boy back and as Voldemort stared down at the unwilling and frightened  
creature below him he smirked. With the boy in his clutches, the war was a  
good as over, even if it meant using unconventional methods to end it.

Next story to be finished is Emporial Stripes, followed by Indecent Proposal, then Rise of the Dark Lord's Heir, and finally Human Horcrux.

* * *

Feedback on the writing style and character development are always welcomed as well as all other remarks, if you like it tell me why ;)

Please review. I'd like to know peoples thoughts.

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	2. Author Note

Ok, people seem to like this but it just doesn't seem to be enough. The reviews I've gotten back have all but begged me to continue with this fic; I've decided to grant those reviewers their wish, however this fic will be the last one my priority list as I think it's time I finished the promise I made when I posted my other fics. I need to finish all my others before I continue this on. I hope people will understand.

Thanks for reading and once again I'm sorry about the author note. I hate them myself.

Oh the fic is now beta'd by Cursa. Thanks for everyone's support and to all of those who reviewed, I extend a personal thank you.

Thank you.

Seacilin


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